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Fulcrum vs Crash 2030
Six lasers - Thrull Lava Pits Crazy Galvatron? Yeah that's our bad. Behold! The hellish lava pits of Thrull. A planet still in its initial stages of forming, Thrull's landscape is a churning mess of lava and molten rock. Volcanoes dot the landscape, spewing ash and smoke into the atmosphere. The central landing area has been made civilized via an outpost protected with a forcefield. The nearby area, consisting of lava pits, is conditioned to be safe to breathe. Known galaxy-wide for their psychological "benefits", the lava pits range in size from ocean to "convenient hot tub shape". In fact, there are only a few places on Thrull that are not covered in lava. In the northern hemisphere stretches the largest of these "plains", hosting a modestly-sized Spaceport, and the newly-constructed Six Lasers ™ Olympic Omni-Arena 5000. More adventuresome tourists & gladiators can venture out beyond the safe areas to the magma rivers. Thrull! The name is synonymous throughout the galaxy with firey violence, so what better place to hold this round of the Gladitorial matches! Eschewing the shiny new Olympic stadium, the venue for this fight is the huge islands of rock floating, melting and colliding in the planet's largest magma stream. An arena of blistering heat and savage natural fury, where one misstep could mean a searing death. Fulcrum stands on one such island, his optics locked on his opponent who stands upon another. Scowling, the blacksmith shifts his grip on his two fearsome weapons, a huge sledgehammer in one hand and a burning sickle, as bright as the molten rock in the other. As the mournful klaxxon signals the beginning of the fight, Fulcrum fires his boot jets and power-jumps over the lava, propelling himself directly towards Crash in an effort to introduce Autobot face to Decepticon elbow. The introduction went rather well. Face and elbow getting along smashingly! The blue-bot's head snapped back from the impact of the strike, a foot drug back behind him and braced to keep from being floored so soon into the fight. Crash swayed but did not fall from the first blow, his meaty fists cocking up and at the ready, one absently knuckling the short gap between mout and nasal ridge to check for any leakage. None yet, gonna have to hit him harder. Stepping into his offense, Crash thought to test Fulcrum's reactions.. afterall, he'd never gone up against the fellow befor. Thus he employed feint. His left dropped as if for a hard upper only to have his right come in instead, striking with a swift jab. Fulcrum skids to a halt as his momentum is most satisfactorily halted by Crash's face. He raises his weapons as Crash brings up his fist, lunging forward even as the feint comes. Jinking slightly to avoid the fist, he grunts as the right comes around and slams into the side of Fulcrum's face. Ignoring the blow, Fulcrum powers through, closing further and raising both weapons as if to bring them down on Crash's head... only to bring his knee up suddenly, boot-jet flaring to add injury to insult. No dice. Crash thinks it generaly best to not have any part at all of what looked like a rather painful gambit right at the start of it all, Crash darts to the side with a quick, shuffling side-step, feet scuffing across the volcanic rock. Those weapons don't come down though, and instead he avoids a knee rocketing where his cod piece would have been. He grunts his thanks to primus. Didn't want to tip his hand to the meatys and leave them to wonder if he was equipped like that or not. For Fulcrum and his little trick, Crash had something of a present. Shifting his weight to his right, Crash brought up a boot, the leg hefted and cocked at the knee befor it shot out for Fulcrum's side. Something to get him out of the repair-bot's personal space. Fulcrum is already off balance when the attack comes, the kick sending the seeker staggering backwards to the edge of the lava island, his arms windmilling as he teeters on the edge. Biting off a curse, Fucrum regains his footing and growls at his opponent. "Enough playing around, Autobot" he states, shifting his weight. "I shall see you live up to your name!" The hot stone vibrates underfoot as he charges, bringing his burning sickle around in a hissing arc, a glowing after-image following the curved blade. Barkida crouches a safe distance from the battle in a comfortable position on a scorched hillside, dressed in a fireproof suit that covers her nose and mouth. She's cooking the leg of what looks like a dinosaur over a lava stream as she watches the match. Crash can only loft a brow when Fulcrum lets off a bit of steam and comes charging. Crash is ready, calm and collected. He waited for Fulcrum to come in, watched for the swing, careful, cool. He didn't bother to snap off reply, just did another darting shuffle that carried him just out of the sickle's range, a back step taken once more just in case Fulcrum had a backswing in him. What ground he gave up, he stepped back in to reclaim, his right hand retreating into his wrist and replaced with the long, flat shape of a chainsaw. The blade quickly whirled into life, the weapons teeth gleaming in the light cast by the surrounding magma. Crash worked the blade around, a wide stroke slung at Fulcrum's midsection, the 'surgical tool' ready to chew through his armorings like butter. Fulcrum cries out as the chainsaw bites into his side, his momentum helping the toothed blade to tear through his armor. With the edge of the island rapidly approaching, and unable to stop himself in time, Fulcrum hurridly activates his anti-gravs and fires his jets, soaring in a long leap that ends with a heavy landing on a smaller chunk of rock, throwing up thick magma in a deadly spash. Before his weight can sink the island, Fulcrum leaps again, and again, and again, sparks trailing from his wounded side as he hops from island to island in an attempt to obscure where his next attack will come from, finally launching himself over Crash's head and bringing his hammer down towards his head. It's work done, Crash quickly tucked the saw out of sight, the weapon was a gas guzzler, best used sparingly. Fulcrum's antics allowed him another moment to collect himself, to watch the mech as he sprang from one floating stone to another. He had no desire to chase him, Fulcrum would always come back. Maybe that's why their relationship was working so well! And sure enough on came Fulcrum, driving down with that fearsome looking hammer, intent on smashing Crash's head right down into his chest like a autobot themed game of whack-a-mole. Crash again moved just in time, allowing the seeker to pulverize a portion of the island that Crash had seemingly claimed as his own in exchange for not hurting him. As surely as Crash had maneuvered away, he came back, aggresively rushing Fulcrum full on in a sudden change of tactics, seeking to slam into the mech and drive him to the ground. Fulcrum can't seem to do anything right. Nothing he does is working, he can't hit the broad side of a barn, or the slightly less broad side of an Autobot. "Arrg, get off!" he replies in a totally-not-quip worthy way, struggling to pummel Crash with the pommel of his weaponry, not bothering to defend as it's never worked in the past anyway. Crash was battered with the butt-end of Fulcrum's weapons, they crashed into his helmet or his sides, snapping it too and fro. Almost as if doing as requested, Crash drew back, shoving himself upto his feet and stumbling backwards somewhat so that he didn't fall flat on his skidplate, perhaps dazed by the head shots. Shaking off the stars and pixels that danced befor his optics, Crash groused, and seemed ready to attempt to give Fulcrum a good boot into the lava only to halt befor fully taking a step. With a grunt, Crash simply assumed a ready stance, motioning Fulcrum on with a gesture from his fingers. "C'mon then." the medibot beckoned, "Unless yer just gonna lay there all cycle." "Just... hn... catching my breath" Fulcrum replies, staggering back into a fighting stance. Spinning his sickle in his fingers like a glowing fan blade, he lunges towards Crash once more, taking a leaf from the Autobot's book as the burning blade is merely a distraction for the sledgehammer that comes whistling around behind, its head now surrounded by a crackling energy field. Quick thinking and a cool head saved Crash from a nasty headache. Of course the time that he gave Fulcrum allowed him to keep himself thinking a step ahead aswell. When Fulcrum came he was ready, the sickle was too showy, too flashy. Had to have been a trick, Crash paid it no mind and was quickly rewarded when Fulcrum brought that maul around. Crash hefted a arm, stopping the swing at the wrist befor it could gain much more momentum and snapped another jab right towards Fulcrum's faceplate. Ah, but Fulcrum is wise to Crash's tricks as well now, hooking that arm at the wrist with the butt-end of his sickle. Momentarily locked in melee, Fulcrum struggles for a moment to free his weapons... before suddenly slamming his head forward in a brutal headbut, hoping to add to the dents he left there earlier Looks like Crash will have to switch things up a little. Fulcrum's sudden tangling maneuver get's his guard down, letting that headbutt slip through and rattle his cage, his helmeted dome rocking back once more, drawing a pained grunt from behind clenched jaws. Ticks him off a little. This guys trying to scramble all those years of engineering and mechanic work he's soaked up. So Crash tries to push the mech off balance again, attempting to maneuver a leg behind Fulcrum's ankles and use it to lever the seeker over and send him onto his back once more by throwing a bit of his weight around. Fulcrum lets out a startled "Whup!" as he's tripped, falling hard onto his back on the burning hot rock, his strained-servos screaming in pain. As he falls, the blacksmith lashes out with his sickle, trying to use his fall in his favour and drag the tip of his blade down the front of his opponent. Crash hadn't thought that one all the way through it seems. His concentration's slipping. The sickles searing edge raked across his armor certainly didn't do it any favors, his heavy plate softened by the crescent blade. He grunted in pain, lips drawing back from dental plates as he took a step back, clapping ahand over the slowly cooling metal. With a growl he brought his chansaw out to play once more, this time it weas he right hand that disappeared and allowed the blade to thrust forward from the stump. It spun up to speed mid-swing, buzzing through the air as he attempted to carve into fulcrum once more, wether he was still floored or not. "ARRRRG" yells Fulcrum as the blade grinds into his arm, severing vital servos, his internal diagnostics a scrolling list of warnings. Wrenching himself free of the chainsaw, Fulcrum staggers away, painfully transforming and soaring skywards, his mind racing as he tries to think of his next move, circling above the lava stream with embers falling from the rents and tears in his armor. Fulcrum's joints screech as his body reconfigures itself into a green MiG-29. Crash retracts his mean little secret once more, fist snapping into place again, fingers working just to make sure that they could. There was little he could do about Fulcrum slipping away and into the air. It left him feeling lonely on his little chunk of rock amidst it all. He turned his optics upwards, following Fulcrum in his stalking flight. Normaly he'd turn to his guns or his chain.. but there were rules in place now. So he'd wait, letting his temper cool. Fulcrum isn't sure what to do... but an idea strikes him. All this time he's being rushing at the autobot... why not let the Autobot come to him, and maybe get the chance to stop leaking energon from these ragged cuts? The MiG dives towards a distant magma island some distance from the one Crash stands on, transforming in mid-air to land heavily in robot mode. Dropping to one knee, Fulcrum takes a patch of metal from a hatch at his hip and presses it against the gaping chainsaw wound in his side. Gritting his teeth, he presses the flat of his burning blade against the patch, melting it into a makeshift bandage. Crash's features became something of a more deeply etched scowl. That was just a little bit crooked right there. Nothing to be done about it though, if anything it meant he himself could slap a few layers on when things were looking nasty. Coming off the stationary defensive, Crash broke into a jog and went rock hopping. His display of platforming skills was much less graceful, his added weight meant that there was less time, Magma spalshed up around him, pocking his armor as it splattered and popping one of his tires once a good sized glob met the rubber. Meant his walk home was going to be a long one. When he finaly reached a gab he couldn't bridge with a leap, he turned to his hook, casting the chain out and letting the hook act as a anchor, the tip dug into the volcanic rock, as he pulled himself along. He set foot on Fulcrum's haven with a sprint, taking up a jog at the Seeker, feet falling hard on the stone as he barreled along, only to hop up at the last moment and thrust both feet towards the seeker's frame. The fall'd hurt but it'd be worth it to get the flyboy going agian. Fulcrum can see Crash closing in on him, but waits, holding the searing blade against his side until the patch has completely covered his injury. And still he waits. Closer... closer.. closer... NOW! Just as Crash brings his feet down, Fulcrum lunges up from his crouching position, his opponent's attack meeting only rock as the seeker soars up.. and with a burst from his jets, comes right back down, aiming to drive Crash even further into the stone, perhaps even shattering or capsizing the rock underneath. "You lousy spawnuva.." curses Crash as he does not get that satisfying mech-on-mech collision, but instead only the jarring impact of landing that puts him on a knee. It's fortunate in a way though, the seeker smith coming down and him already crouched, it lets him dive away and out from under the death from above maneuver. The rock slab pitches beneath them, threatening to capsize. Crash's reproduced hook saves him from a hot dip, the point thrust into the stone once more, anchoring him for the moment he needed to get to his feet and rush Fulcrum who was hopefuly not fairing much better, a fist reeled back and sent forwerd in a swift punch. CRUNCH That's the sound of Fulcrum missing Crash and slamming shoulder first into the rock. The floating island shudders, the impact opening deep cracks all over its surface. Getting to his feet, Fulcrum shakes his head, trying to clear it, leaving Crash a perfect opportunity to land that punch. An opportunity that's completely ruined by the breakup of the rock island, a sudden violent quake breaking it into several small pieces, Fulcrum on one and Crash on another. "Just... DIE" growls Fulcrum, leaping into mid air, weapons returning to subspace as he attempts to pummel Crash into submission and ideally off the edge of the remains of the magma island. A sudden rearangement does tend to make one rethink attacks. Crash fell back on his heels, having to back pedal or take a dive. Just as he dug in his heels, Fulcrum came to greet him, a fist striking him across the jaw, making his dental plates rattle. "You got the wrong 'Bot if you wanted a by, clanker." groused Crash as he leaned back, working a leg up and the striking it out in a snap to Fulcrum's mid-section. "It wasn't a REQUEST!" bellows Fulcrum, already past his opponent as Crash's fist swings up to intercept him. With a sudden grinding sound the blacksmith once more reconfigures himself into a 1980s-era Soviet jet, afterburners howling as he swings around in a huge arc, a sonic boom echoing around the volcanic landscape as he heads directly for Crash in a near-suicidal attempt to ram him. "Bossy too.." grunted Crash as he tried to get his footing right only to find himself in Fulcrum's jetwash. The seeker's on the fly again and it doesn't look like he's just going to circle this time. Crash readies himself, a his Chainsaw drawn once more, the blade spinning up to speed, the growl shouted down by the sound of Fulcrums engins. On comes Fulcrum and crash attempts to dive, being caught by a wing and nearly sent over the edge. But while Fulcrum clips him with the wing, Crash attempts to shear the entire thing off. Well so much for that. Fulcrum's curses can be heard even over the roar of his engines as he swings around again, a huge gash scored across the underside of one wing, the heat-ray on that side now nothing more than scrap. Crash's eyes follow the flying Mig. He almost expects to be caught up in a hail of bullets at any moment. Thankfuly Fulcrum sticks to the rules and Crash is left with a moment to breath. He uses it wisely, taking that saw to himself, carving away some superfluous kibble on the side of his leg and crushing it to his chest. A laser torch extends from a fingertip and begins to weld it in place. Fulcrum would grind his teeth if he had them in this mode. It's fine when he repairs himself, but it's totally not fair for his opponent to do the same. Trailing smoke like a banner, the jet swings around, transforming in mid air, hammer once again out and now held in both hands, swinging down in a massive overhead strike, hoping to catch Crash while he's busy with his repairs. Crash would have been better off just watching that damned jet! The hammer swings down and strikes Crash squarely atop his head, driving it down into his chest cavity, suddenly forcing a transformation. In a split second it is not Crash that sits befor Fulcrum, but a truck, one of it's wheels flat and the metal along one of the bed's sides cut off. Maybe if he's really still Fulcrum will think he's vanished! Doubtful. Rolling with the punches, Crash steps on the gas, wheels kicking up debris while the flat grinds it's rim against the rock, the friction creating sparks as bits and peices of metal go flying off as shards of slag. Crash takes off, putting precious little distance between them befor turning around, nearly rolling off into the magma in the process befor he come barreling back towards Fulcrum at (nearly) full speed! Well, Fulcrum was actually hoping that Crash would fall down and say something like 'I give in, you win, Autobots are dumb!' Why do they never do that? The blacksmith bites off a curse as the truck barrels towards him, lunging out of the way. Unable to bring his hammer around in time as he spins on the spot, Fulcrum lashes out with one fist, aiming to cave in the passenger-side door. Fulcrum gets a shot in with the drive by, the punch lashing against the door, the window shattering once the frame bent with the rest of the door as it was forced inwards. When crash transformed it was not a pretty sight, the door was crushed and smashed as he reformed, coaxing a pained groan from the medibot. He managed to complete the sequence, but he begain to consider going doorless in order to prevent a repeat preformance. Attempting to shake it off, Crash took a staggering run at Fulcrum, building up with a growl befor flinging his fist at the mech more then actualy firing off a focused punch. Crash's fist slams into Fulcrum's mid-section, cracking the seeker's golden cockpit ad reopening the wound in his side. Punch drunk and heavily injured, Fulcrum staggers sideways, lashing out with one heavy boot as he does so. Covered in gouges and dents, it seems like the only thing keeping him standing is sheer bloody-mindedness. Crash falls on his aft, the kick striking home and setting the big bot down. The fall is accompanied by a grunt of pain. He rolls over, slowly getting up to his feet. He doesn't even bother to turn around, simply backpeddling in a quick attempt to smash into Fulcrum, a elbow clumsily thrust backwards. All of Fulcrum's internal systems are screaming at him to get his stupid damaged aft back to base before he dies. But that ain't the name of the game here, so he's got to see this one through. Stumbling down onto one knee, he peers through flickering and staticy optics at his foe, somehow finding the energy to launch himself up into a clumsy uppercut. And up comes that fist, catching him square in the chin, dental plates clashing painfully, eyes filling with pixels and stars once more.. Only this time they don't leave quite as quickly once he tries to shake them away, staggering to keep his balance. In fact they still dance befor his optics as he swings a foot out low, trying to put the seeker right in the shin plating. "Fall! FALL!" grinds Fulcrum, lurching sideways as his hammer reappears in his hand, the weight having the happy side effect of moving him out of the way of Crash's sweep kick. Staggering back to his foe, he puts his remaining strength behind his hammer, trying to bludgeon Crash into submission. The hammer rings against his weakened plate like a tolling bell, striking soundly against his hefty frame. He refuses though, perhaps just as stubborn, just as mean. He's been waiting for just the right moment to whip out something mean again. He waits for Fulcrum to strugle with the weight of his cudgle befor striking, a hand retracting and replaced. The air filled with the whirring of a chain along it's tracks befor Crash brings a arm sweeping up and then down in a last ditch surge for victory. GRNZZZZZZZZZZZHHHH The shimmering air is suddenly filled with flying sparks as the chainsaw strikes... into the optic-searing blade of a burning sickle. Fulcrum grins, energon running down the corner of his mouth. Seems like he's finally learned. "Not today, Autobot" he grinds, raising his hammer again. "And not EVER." In the audience is a Blueshift, cheering Fulcrum on. "Go on Acid Storm, kill him in the face!" he shouts With chainsaw locked against sickle, Crash must use his free hand quickly, his hand lashing out to catch hold of the shaft of Fulcrum's mighty weapon. "Just.. a buncha slaggin talk." ge grates between clenched jaws, struggling to hold the weapon at bay as his head rocks back and then forward, attempting to slam the batter brim of his helmet into Fulcrum's face. Looks like Crash is right, the ringing impact sending Fulcrum backwards to fall flat on his back. The injured seeker lies there for a moment, thinking how nice the burning rock feels. Mmm. Could just lie here for a little bit... NO. Fight! "Ughhh" he groans, struggling to his feet and lumbering back towards Crash, his SECRET WEAPON held clenched in one mighty fist! His secret weapon is a rock. Crash hefts a shoulder into the blow, the headlight mounted there smashed in as the rock collides with the blue painted metal. "Lousy clanking.." he grumbles tersely. He aughta just give in by now. All the fight's about gone out of him.. But he's banking on the fact that Fulcrum's in the same boat. So he struggles on, hefting a boot and shoveing it towards the seeker's gut. Fulcrum oofs, falling on his aft again. This is possibly the worst fight in the history of the war. It's just a brawl, both fighters reduced to weakened blows. Maybe it's a metaphor for the whole Autobot/Decepticon conflict, or maybe it's just really stupid. Or hell, maybe it's both. "Hnn.. your.. feet!" mumbles Fulcrum. "Well.. two can.. ARG!" He's barely upright as it is, swaying on his feet, movements heavy and labored. The hooker boot to the leg takes him off both. Crash falls forward, a ton or two of dead weight just crashing down, hopefuly with a unlucky seeker there to catch him. Fulcrum hears his cockpit shatter as Crash slams into him, driving them both into the ground. "Get...OFF me!" Fulcrum yells, fury giving him the energy to rain a flurry of blows on the Autobot pinning him down. Punch after punch hammer him, more just make contact then actualty hurt. They inch him ever closer to that oblivion though. ever closer.. He tries for it once more, a hand retracted, the blade produced. The keen of the chain is much less high pitched as he rears up. one hand grasping his forearm to help him try and guide it down into the shoulder of the stubborn seeker. "Did I NOT tell you?" Fulcrum almost screams, grimmacing through the rain of sparks, the chainsaw blocked by the sickle scant inches from his face. With his other hand, Fulcrum thumbs the activation stud on his hammer, blue energy coroscating around its dented head. With a supreme effort he brings it down towards Crash's much-damaged face. Chainsaw locked to sickle, around comes the hammer. Crash draws his hand away from his arm and holds it to bar the swing. He'd follow with a headbutt and they could keep going for hours yet. He cycled a breath and let it out in a huffed sigh. "Screw this..." he utters, drawing himself up and off of Fulcrum, with all the haste and grace of a fat, old man. Groaning included. "Ain't fightin' over anything save for the fight itself. I'm done. You win." he concedes, simply keeling back down onto his aft plate. "Hah, strong words, Autobot, but..." Fulcrum stops, his audials finally managing to relay the message to his brain. "You.. give up. Hah! Foolish Autobot! Victory is mine!" And then Fulcrum does what any Decepticon would do when faced with a defeated enemy lying at his feet. He kicks him when he's down. Combat: Fulcrum misses Crash with his Sore Winner (Kick) attack! Or rather; that's the plan. However, Fulcrum is so damaged that all he can do is fall flat on his aft. Hoooray? "How's that victory taste?" quizzes Crash, "A bit like ground? Yeah, looks delicious. Fulcrum says, "Shut up, Autobot, I still won!" Crash says, "Yeah, yeah." "Yesss!" shouts Blueshift, watching from a lava surfboard. "You beat Sideswipe, Acid Storm. Well done!" Fulcrum says, "Could.. someone help me back to base?" Blueshift says, "I would but I'm about to help Acid Storm, sorry" Fulcrum says, "Blueshift you idiot, that's.. oh never mind" Yeah, that showed him, thinks Fulcrum. Now to just lie here until someone comes to help him up or the rock melts. Blueshift hops down to where Fulcrum lies, and starts to tie a chain around his neck. "I'll get you back to base old buddy!" he yells. Fulcrum says, "Not the neck.. around the waist...achhkkk" Blueshift finishes attaching the chain to Fulcrum's neck, and pulls it tight. Then he attaches it to a towing harness on himself and transforms. "I THINK I know how to transport a severely injured patient!" he snorts as he takes off Fulcrum can only wave his arms feebly. He may have won the match by forfeit, but it's anyone's guess if he'll survive the ride home Blueshift blasts fast into the air, shaking somewhat. "OH MY, TURBULANCE!" he shouts as he rocks about in the volcanic atmosphere. "I'll just fly lower under it." He swoops down towards the lava, Fulcrum dangling by the neck under him :(